


Here

by Laurelilith



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Dissociation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Overworking, Pneumonia, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sick Character, Sickfic, fluids are minimal but necessarily involved, i beat Steven to fuck in this one yall, i tried not to make it too bad but be warned anyway, physically and emotionally, prepare yourselves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:33:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22579405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laurelilith/pseuds/Laurelilith
Summary: What do you get when you cross overwork, repressed emotional trauma and being at least partially organic?Steven and everyone around him is in for a wild ride.
Relationships: Connie Maheswaran/Steven Universe
Comments: 10
Kudos: 195





	Here

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I finally got up the courage to post this! It's my first fic and it's not perfect but I hope you like it! It's basically a super fluffy/angsty sickfic where Steven gets sick and has to deal with vulnerability smacking him in the face. It's jam-packed with tropes and super self-indulgent so be warned. Also you can read Connie/Steven as close platonic or romantic, whatever floats your boat! Enjoy!

And...done. 

Steven sighed and smiled a little at his phone. He was finally finished placing the order of supplies they were going to need for the next month at Little Homeschool. It had been a long task on top of an already long day, but he was glad to get it done nonetheless. He made a mental note to thank his dad again, since it was his donations that made the school and its upkeep possible in the first place. Apparently when you're content with living low-cost life, several million dollars in the bank plus the interest could really add up. 

With that he was near the end of his very long list of things to do for the day. He rubbed at the tiredness in his eyes with the heel of his hand. Thank goodness. He was really ready for a break. 

To put it frankly, Steven was exhausted. Running a school almost single-handedly and managing all of the logistics himself was tiring, in more ways than one. It didn't help that what sleep he could get had been fragile lately, though in fairness it had been a while since he had slept through the night. The nightmares, which had become normal for him after beginning their regular appearance over a year ago, had been picking up the last week or so and weren't doing energy levels any favors.

He stretched a little and wondered if that lack of sleep was catching up to him now. He was tired -- which was also his new normal, just not usually to this extent -- and for some reason he just overall didn't feel the best. His body hurt vaguely and his chest had felt tight all day, like if he stretched his lungs too far they'd snap somehow. If he was honest he hadn't felt like himself in maybe a week, ever since the snowstorm and that game of Steven Tag where he'd abandoned his jacket. But this week had been particularly packed, and slowing down was a luxury he couldn't afford. He had worked through the strange congestion and tiredness, spread too thin to care how he felt when he had a second to breathe. But this morning things had been worse; he had woken up with a sore throat that was still kind of there and the strange body pain that just wouldn't let up. His head felt better but something seemed to have settled in his chest, making his lungs hurt and causing him to cough as if something was stuck somewhere. 

Still, he had finally made it through the day, achieving the goal he'd had since the week began. Now he had two days to rest, once he finished these last chores up. Well, two days that included two meetings, three lessons to plan and a ton of scheduling, not to mention the weekly errands.... His heart sunk a little and he sighed. What he wouldn't give for a break and some decent sleep.

Then suddenly his phone buzzed. Grimacing at the slight pain from brushing against up the fabric he took his phone out of his jacket pocket to read the message. 

-Hey Steven!! We still on for tonight? Dad’s going to try making a vegetarian biryani!-

He groaned out load, hating himself for forgetting. All this looking forward to the end of the week, and he forgets the one important thing that's scheduled for then? And he had been hoping to get home soon, maybe grab an hours' nap before dinner, but now he guessed that wasn't going to happen. He briefly considered canceling but almost immediately discarded the thought. He wanted to see Connie more than he wanted to rest. He'd been so busy lately and so had she that their Friday night hangouts were their only real time to see each other. She wanted this, and he really didn't want to let her down. And he really, really missed her too. 

"It's okay," Steven told himself calmingly. They could make it a lowkey night. He could rest and be with Connie at the same time; she was a restful person. He smiled at the thought of her. Then, taking as deep a breath as he could muster, he returned to his phone. 

-hey! wow sounds awesome! can’t wait :D-

His lungs weren't exactly thrilled about deep breaths, as it turned out. They seized up and his eyes flew open in shock. Suddenly he was coughing hard, hacking even, and the way it echoed in his chest made a sound that drove a bolt of fear through his heart. It was just like his dream on Homeworld, with all that awful hair -- was it the Diamonds? Or someone else? Was everyone in danger again??

The coughing finally stopped but he stayed hunched, frozen in place. Eyes wide and unseeing, he scoured his hearing for any suspicious sounds but eventually had to recognize there was nothing to hear. Slowly he felt fear lessen its grip on his heart. This wasn't Spinel's situation all over again; everything was fine. Honestly there was no real reason a cough would mean danger in the first place. He felt a little silly for thinking it, but he had to admit the fear was real.

As he fully returned to himself he realized that he did have something in his mouth, however. Pushing himself up on shaking limbs he got over to the trash can and spat. A mass of some sort, yellow-green and slimy, stared up at him. He stared back. For the first time in a while, he wondered if there might be something seriously wrong with him. 

***  
Leaving the building was a bad idea. 

The cold air outside shocked his lungs and hurt his throat. Each fresh gust of wind felt like it cut right through his jacket and into his bones. He stumbled to the Dondai and had barely closed the door before doubling over on himself, coughing himself raw and feeling the cold burn the sensitive lining of his lungs as he did so. For a few minutes all he could do was sit and shiver, huddled in on himself as he tried to build up the motivation to move. He realized how ridiculous it was for him to sit there without the heat on when it was so cold, but the reach’s distance seemed very far away and the Dondai’s seat was just starting to warm up where he touched it. It took a strange amount of time — it could have been anywhere between two and fifteen minutes, Steven wasn’t sure — before his breathing began to struggle again, and he knew he wanted warm air in his lungs when he had to cough next. His hand was out and the heat was blasting, suddenly, though he shrunk even further in on himself as the first air out of the vents was cold. It took some time but eventually he felt his muscles relax; the car had become not warm, exactly, but not frostbite-level either. Not a minute too soon, Steven thought, and let himself cough out the accumulation since his journey into a tissue. More yellow-green. He put his head in his hands and sighed, and shivered. Whatever was going on with him, he just wanted a break. 

It took a few minutes more but he finally felt as ready as he could be to drive to Connie’s. He counted his blessings as he pulled out of his spot: it was almost warm in the car, and his lungs weren’t hurting as bad now that it wasn’t cold, and he would be able to sleep early after this since she was feeding him dinner. It’s not that bad, he assured himself unsteadily as the car rattled through roads and idled in evening traffic. He could get through this, get some rest with his best friend, and sleep enough that everything would be better in the morning. He stirred it over so much that he had almost convinced himself by the time he pulled up outside Connie’s townhouse.

He took an extra minute to breathe, and cough up as much as he possibly could before going inside. No reason to worry her over something small like this. By the time he had finished, breathless and shuddering, Connie had seen his car through her window. The two opened their doors and stepped out into the cold at the exact same time.

“Steven!” she called happily, waving to him. He took a breath to say hi back but it stung his lungs so badly that the words disappeared. Quickly covering his distress with a smile her way he turned back to close his door before starting up the walkway, only for her to meet him in the middle.

"Get inside, it's cold out! And your annoying butt always insists on wearing just that one jacket!” She grabbed his hand and pulled him up the stairs and into the house.

"I have a scarf on!" he defended, voice cracking as he closed the door and began shuffling his feet on the welcome mat. 

"Yeah, like that'll stop you from getting hypothermia!" She turned around and that big, beautiful grin of hers fell as she took him in properly for the first time. “...Steven, you look awful."

"Huh?" He felt himself color a little and looked down at himself. His outfit seemed fine, as did his boots, if still crusted with a little old snow. He tapped them together to clean them and began slipping them off to their rightful spot. "I don't see anything."

"That's because it's mostly on your face. Have you looked in a mirror today?" she asked, stepping towards him, eyebrows quirked in concern. 

"Not since this morning," he said, a bit surprised. "Why? Do I have something on me?"

Connie reached for him and took his face in her hands, tilting it to look at him from all angles. They felt frigid under his starry scarf, the first time in a long while her touch hadn’t felt right. 

He shivered. "Connie, your hands are cold. Are you okay?"

"I don't think it's my hands, Steven," she said, meeting his worried look with a serious one. "I think you're running warm."

He laughed a bit, which came out hoarse. "I don't know. If anything, I'm cold.” He gave her as reassuring a smile as he could muster before gently shifting her hands out of place so he could take off his scarf, much to his regret. 

"Not feeling warm, being warm," Connie corrected the now slightly shivering half-gem before her. "I think you're running a fever."

He looked up at her and coughed a little. "What's that again?"

"It's where your body raises its core temperature to a heat that microorganisms like bacteria and viruses struggle to survive in. It's a disease-fighting strategy of your immune system," she explained. 

"Oh...uh huh."

"It means you're sick, Steven," she said flatly and crossed her arms. 

"Oh." He blinked. "Wait, how could that be? I haven't been sick since before my gem powers came in. I don't even really remember what it feels like."

"Well, it makes you feel, well, sick all over, and you get tired and sometimes sore." She went to sit down on the couch and patted the cushion next to hers. "There's usually a concentrated set of symptoms determined by the type of pathogen and accompanied by a general unwell feeling." 

"Oh." He chuckled a bit and rubbed at his neck. "I thought it might just be lack of sleep or stress or something."

"Well, either of those can weaken your immune system. Maybe that's how this happened." Connie put a hand on his thigh. "Have you been under a lot of stress lately?"

Fear stabbed him in the chest. Stress? Ugh, no, why did he say that? There was no way that was it, he wasn't really stressed, nothing was that bad anymore. Compared to nearly being killed left and right and constant identity issues and having to hold everyone together this was nothing! I mean sure, he and the Gems were drifting apart, he was hurting more people than he helped these days and everyone seemed to be leaving him behind. And sure, the school was running him ragged and he wasn't exactly getting a lot of sleep anymore. Between the nightmares at night and the busyness during the day there wasn't time for much of anything, much less feeling bad, so how could that be--

"Steven?" He snapped back to reality. Connie was staring up at him and looking very worried. The sword in his chest tore deeper. I'm hurting her now, too. 

"Aha, nope, everything's fine!!" Steven laughed out forcefully. His outburst rasped against the congestion in his lungs. "Life's a breeze now, it's peaceful, everything's fine! Nothing for you to worry about!"

It didn't exactly seem to ease her any. She withdrew her hand but not her gaze. 

"Steven, you can talk to me. It seems like something's clearly wrong."

He was officially scared now. His heart was racing and his palms stung. She can't find out. I can't hurt her like that. I don't want to hurt her. 

"I-I've just got a lot going on right now. I'm just busy," he said over the ringing in his ears. He hoped she would believe him. "With the school and all. I'm fine."

A little voice rippled up from the back of his head. If you're fine, why are you so scared about her finding out the truth?

Connie looked uncomfortable, and sad, and worried now, all at once. "Well...okay," she said uneasily, and looked away. It did nothing for Steven's panic.

"A-are you mad?" he asked, though he could barely hear himself. He was hurting her. She would get hurt and she even might leave him like everyone else. His palms were made of static and he felt like running away and hiding but he was frozen on the couch, and not a muscle would move. 

Connie took a deep breath and faced him again, and though there was worry in her eyes her face now showed nothing but love. "I'm not mad, Steven," she said with just a little resignation in her voice. She leaned over and wrapped him in a full hug. Steven stayed still. "I just care about you. If you're struggling, talk to me, okay?"

His ice core began to melt. She wasn't mad. She still liked him. She still wanted to be here with him. She wasn't that hurt yet. 

What am I doing? Steven thought to himself as his muscles loosened. He hugged Connie back but stared straight ahead. The last few minutes were falling away until he couldn't recognize them anymore. He felt like he had just appeared on Connie's couch, and all he knew was his chest hurt and he was tired. 

"That was nice," Connie was saying as she released him. His arms did too of their own will. He realized that there were words on his tongue, that he had said okay or agreed to whatever Connie wanted. Whatever would make her happy, and make her stay. 

"...eriously though, you're too warm to be normal," she was saying as he tuned back in again, not even aware that he had gone out. He got his eyes back in time to see her send him a silly smirk. "I've hugged you many a time before, Steven Universe. You can't pull a fast one on me with so much experience."

"Ha, you got me," he said tiredly, and gave her a smile too. "Sorry, I guess things have got me a little run-down. I don't have to stay if it's too much trouble."

"No, stay!" Connie exclaimed. His heart swelled a little. "We can still have a fun night! You can eat my dad's cooking, and I'll get some blankets, and we can just watch movies until you have to go!" Her bright smile at the prospect filled his heart the rest of the way.

"Well, okay, if you're sure," he said, an eyebrow raised and a loving cocked smile on his face. "But I may not be the most lively company."

"That's fine," Connie assured him and turned on the TV. "I was hoping for a quiet night anyways."

***  
Coughing at your best friend's house isn't always easy. 

Well, physically it's easy enough, but when fear is holding you hostage and your mental health threatens to crumble at the slightest show of weakness, well, things can get a little complicated. 

Steven had it easy the first time. He had taken so long to explain himself that his lungs were choking him, and all he had to do was clear his throat a little harder when Connie's back was turned to make the stuff appear. The second time he excused himself to the bathroom when he couldn't bear it any longer and coughed while the toilet was flushing. 

The third time he wasn't so lucky. He wasn't used to this kind of espionage, especially not against his best friend and when he wasn't feeling well. He was curled up on the couch with two blankets (she insisted), a warm bowl of biryani in his hands and an enthralled Connie by his side. They were watching the movie remake of Unfamiliar Familiar's second book, and even though Connie swore up and down it didn't hold a candle to the original she just couldn't look away during the action scenes. He smiled at her starry look, full of love and happy to see her happy. 

Nothing that good could last, however, as the world seemed bent on teaching him lately. Connie's dad must have come up from the basement because suddenly a door slammed, and her basement door was always very loud. 

"Dad!" Connie cried happily, no doubt to tell him about the intense scene they were watching. Steven however startled badly, his bowl jostling in his hands from how hard he jumped. The sharp intake of breath that came with it did it in for him, and suddenly he was doubled over choking. 

His best friend whipped around when she heard the coughs. There was no hiding it this time; the rattling sound clearly betrayed the congestion he was carrying. 

"Steven!! Are you okay?!" But he couldn't stop to answer -- he had minimized them for too long and now he was paying the price. Blindly he wondered how he was going to calm her down this time, and the small hand that appeared on his back did nothing to ease his rising fear. 

"It's okay Steven! Breathe," her voice came, but it was starting to sound tinny and far away. With one last cough he brought up the rest of the fluid from his lungs. A tissue appeared in his dim line of vision and he took it gratefully and spat. Airways now clear he hungrily gasped in the oxygen he didn't know he needed. 

"I'm here Steven, it's okay." Her voice had come back into normal hearing range. He took several seconds to recollect what had just happened, made worse by the headrush from the lack of air. He put a shaky hand to his face and raised his head with a small groan. 

Connie had taken the half-eaten bowl of biryani from his hands and put it on the coffee table. The blankets had come undone and pooled around his waist during the fit, leaving his shoulders and back exposed for Connie to reach. He shivered. 

"Steven, I know you said you're fine, but I really think you should consider yourself sick now," Connie said anxiously. 

Her dad appeared around the corner, face full of concern. "Connie, that wasn't you, was i- oh no, Steven-"

"It's fine!!" he cried out hoarsely. His heart had crawled up his throat to sit with the soreness. He had said it to the ceiling; he couldn't bear to look at them, especially not her. "I swear, it's not wh-"

"It's not fine!!" Steven's heart stopped. Tears formed in his eyes and he bit down on his lip. This was it. This was the end of their relationship. His lovely Connie....

"Why aren't you being honest with me!! I'm trying to help you but you keep hiding everything! How do you plan on getting better if you keep doing this to yourself?!"

"Whoa whoa whoa, this just became adult territory," Connie's dad interjected, coming into the room. "Steven, you sound awful. Do you want something for that cough? And Connie, did you take the contagion control measures your mother set out? You know how she is about germs in the house."

"It doesn't matter!!" she shouted at him before seemingly remembering herself and taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry for snapping, Dad. I'm planning to Lysol the couch when we're done and washing his blankets by themselves. And I've been taking my multivitamins and we're not sharing any utensils or anything, and he covers his mouth so we should be fine."

Meanwhile Steven, having been thus reminded that human illnesses are often contagious, felt himself very strangely but calmly step out of his body. 

"I...I forgot...." the body whispered, and he could feel the horror and sickening dread radiating from its core. At least it wasn't inside him anymore. 

Connie whipped back around. "Oh, Steven-"

"I'll go," the body whispered again. "I'll go." Steven moved back a bit as his body clumsily tried to untangle itself from Connie's nest of blankets. His arms weren't very fast and his legs weren't nearly as agile as usual, so the effort only succeeded in looking pathetic. Steven was glad he was outside. Then Connie leaned forward and took his face in her hands -- and maybe it was the comparative coolness of her skin or maybe just the fact that it was her, but suddenly Steven was front-and-center in his body again, burning and nearly blind with bad feelings but present nonetheless. 

Connie looked him in his wild eyes and spoke seriously. "Look Steven, I'm beyond caring about whether or not you could get me sick. If I was worried about that I wouldn't have brought you into my house." 

The fires of wrong still raged but the conscious part of Steven froze. That was true, wasn't it? She knew he was sick when he came in, and wanted him to stay anyway. 

"Steven, I don't know what's going on in your life that you can't tell me about, but I'm your best friend and I'm going to help you anyway. If that means dragging your sorry ass to my house to take care of you when you make yourself sick from stress, then that's what it's going to mean."

"Language, young lady!" Her dad reprimanded from a different room, having left unnoticed sometime during Steven's breakdown. 

"Dad, in this case, I think it was justified!" she called right back. Listening for a reply and hearing none she turned back to Steven. "Do you understand me? Cave and let me help you, at least with this."

Could it be true? Falling apart, of no use to anyone and she still wanted to be with him? He couldn't fathom it, it didn't make sense. Everything that comprised his worth was gone. But Connie had made a request, and Steven found it nearly impossible to deny her anything. And would it be so awful if maybe it would feel just a little bit good to be vulnerable again?

He let out a sound that was half cough and half sob. He hadn't recognized that he was close to crying. It took another second but he eventually found his cracked and sore voice. "...And it won't hurt you? You're sure?"

"The only thing that could hurt me would be getting sick, but it would hurt more if I knew you were out there and I didn't try."

He sniffed, wiped his eyes, and spoke shakily. "...Then, if you're sure, I'll stay."

"Good," she said fiercely. 

"What's good?" came a voice from above. The pair looked up to see Connie's dad had returned with a smile and a tray of some sort. 

"Steven's going to let himself be taken care of now," Connie said, relief seeping into her voice. 

"Well then, it's a good thing I gathered provisions!" He put the tray on the coffee table. The contents were extensive and impressive -- orange juice, DayQuil, ibuprophen, a thermometer, even a damp towel in a bowl. 

"I figured we'd start with the essentials," he said, quieting his bright tone down to kindness. "You kids want me to stay and help?"

Connie sent him a warm look. "I'll take care of it. Thanks, Dad."

He chuckled and ruffled her hair. "I'm just glad this happened when your mom's working the night shift. Could you imagine?"

She giggled. Steven cracked a smile, just to join in. His head buzzed and his heart felt almost light, if dizzy with relief. He had Connie, and she wasn't going to leave. He wouldn't be hurting her. She would stay. 

***  
The rest of the evening was quiet, thankfully, apart from Steven's more frequent coughs. Connie's dad left them alone with the care kit. Steven sat patiently, allowing himself to be handled while his best friend took his temperature and wiped down his sweaty face. She dosed him with the DayQuil and ibuprophen and tried to get him take both with the orange juice; the cold medicine went down, but Steven had never taken pills before so the fever reducer was a bit of a disaster. As a last resort Connie's dad searched the medicine cabinet and eventually found a children's liquid version in the back. The whole scenario added some much-needed levity to the night and Mr. Maheswaran was dubbed a hero. Once these tasks were out of the way Connie and her dad attempted to top off his biryani, but at his insistence that he wasn't hungry he was given a popsicle instead. 

"It's my dad's secret trick from when I was a kid," Connie winked as Steven looked at the treat with confusion. "If I was sick I got as many as I wanted. It soothes your throat, controls your fever, hydrates you, keeps your blood sugar up and, best of all, tastes good -- which combats crankiness." 

"Huh. Smart," Steven said hoarsely, genuinely impressed. 

"My mom may have three degrees, but sometimes I swear it's my dad who's the real genius," Connie said proudly. 

Steven licked his popsicle mildly as Connie replaced the CD and started the next movie. His blankets were re-wrapped around his shoulders and he reluctantly coughed when he needed to -- Connie had made it abundantly clear where exactly she would put her sword if he tried to suppress them again (in a whisper so her father wouldn't hear). After the food was gone and another popsicle denied, they sat together in quiet companionship. By that point the drugs, food, and emotional and physical exhaustion had started to kick in, and Steven's eyes were beginning to drift closed. 

His supported position on the couch unexpectedly gave way as his body leaned into it while he drifted into sleep. Suddenly he was falling, his head landing right on Connie's leg. It of course startled him, and the gasp set him off again before he could address the situation. He curled up on his side and coughed, hard, and when he was done and began to uncurl a tissue appeared in his face. He took it gratefully and spat before throwing it in the trash can with the mounting pile. Re-realizing then that he was on top of Connie -- a position they had rarely been in since they were children -- he started to scramble up before Connie shifted and grabbed him gently under the arms. He froze. With a small grunt she pulled him up further into herself so that his head rested comfortably in the lap she made but he could still see the television. His surprise had to wait for him to cough again, but this time Connie's hand was rubbing his back. It helped, strangely. Devoid of energy and confusedly pleased he only turned slightly to give her a questioning look.

She looked down at him and smiled that perfect smile. "It didn't look comfortable," she explained softly, and that was all that was needed. He gave her a smile filled with all the love he felt and turned back to the TV. She fixed the blankets back around his shoulders. And he fell asleep, supported by the one he loved. 

He wasn't sure how long he slept, but the credits were rolling and Connie was nodding off when he woke up. He extended a shaky hand to reach for his phone, checked the time (10:13) and began to push himself up. His shifting woke Connie, and the two sat together rubbing their eyes in shared sleepiness. 

"I should go," Steven said eventually, quiet voice an octave deeper from sleep and sickness. 

Connie yawned. "Do you have to? You could spend the night, and then maybe my mom could take a look at you."

"No, the gems would worry. Besides, your family has already done enough for me."

"This is nothing. We'll do more." The two waited sleepily in the dark, just processing. "...Actually, it might be better if you went home now. There's no guarantee you'll feel better in the morning, and then when we drove you home your car would have to stay here and maybe get ticketed."

Steven wasn't thrilled with the concept of not being better tomorrow. "You're right. And I don't want to drive home in a worse condition."

Connie made a sound of displeasure and stretched. "...But are you sure it's safe?" Steven felt shuffling in the dark and her cool handprint appeared on his thigh. "You shouldn't drive tired, and being sick won't help. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything."

"I'll be fine. I'll take it slow and there's no one out on the roads now anyways." Connie made a small sound of concession, and Steven lifted himself to standing with a grunt and a chorus of popping joints. He offered a gentlemanly hand for her to do the same, which she took and didn't need. She stretched with a soft sound and a few pops of her own, and then they were standing, and it was time to go. 

In a soft sync they went to the door to get him dressed for the outside. He slipped on his boots quietly while Connie took his scarf from the coathook. He came up and reached for it with a thank-you on his lips but Connie stopped him with a sound. Stepping into him she laid the scarf on the back of his neck and began to wind it gently around his neck. Paying no attention to his flustered apologetic protests she didn't step back until she was sure she did it right and he would be warm on the drive home. Accepting her pointed look he sighed and smiled in thanks, and she giggled quietly at his blush, noticeable on top of his fever flush even in the dark. 

"Steven, are you sure you don't want to stay until Connie's mom comes home?" her dad asked, appearing behind them in the doorway. "I'm sure she'd take a look at you before going to bed. It's not what she specializes in but she still knows her stuff."

"I'm sure, Mr. Maheswaran," Steven replied, voice cracking but still warm. "I've taken up enough of your time, and I need to get back before the gems worry about me."

The father nodded in understanding. 

"Text me as soon as you get home," Connie insisted as her friend opened the door. The two walked out into the bitter cold, but Steven barely noticed this time. 

"I will," he promised, but as he reached to his car something slowed his footsteps. It was like a wall was put up between him and the Dondai. He tried to reach for the handle but it crushed his chest so badly in a way that not even being sick could touch. It was wrong. He suddenly understood that he couldn't leave without explaining himself to Connie. His body whipped around and words started falling in a rush. 

"Look, Connie I-I'm sorry. I want to talk more, about, my life and stuff...." He sighed and worried his jacket sleeve. "I just don't really know what's going on with me, you know? A-and I'm so worried about what this means, and the people around me, and-" He stopped and tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "It's just, too much for me right now. I'm sorry. I...please don't leave me."

The last part was said in a whisper, to the ground, in perfect view to watch a hot tear dampen the sidewalk. Another blurred his vision and he waited for it to fall. He didn't want to look at her, torn between wanting to be near her and wanting to run away so he wouldn't poison her by selfishly being close. He didn't want to know the answer. He just wanted the two of them to be okay. 

Then Connie's voice shook Steven out of his revery. 

"Steven, I need you to listen to me," she said seriously, with a sternness he wasn't expecting. "I get to decide who I stay friends with and who I don't. You don't get to beg that from me. If someone isn't healthy for me I have a right to end that friendship." Her voice softened. "But you haven't done anything to make me want to leave. In fact, you've given me so much love and support that I know I wouldn't be in this great place in my life without you." She smiled a little. "It's not just learning to sword fight, or getting to ride a giant pink lion, or dismantling an imperialist alien empire. It's hanging out with you, and helping you, and being with you just because I want to. Remember what I told you, all the way back when we were kids?"

Steven thought back to all the times she had said she loved him, in a hundred different ways, and felt himself color. "Which time?" he croaked, embarrassed. 

She giggled slightly and took his hand. “When Lapis and Peridot first came to Earth and you were hiding everything to try to protect me. What I said was 'I want to be a part of your universe.'" She squeezed his clammy palm. "It's still true. I'm not going anywhere, Steven Universe. If anything happens I'll talk to you about it first, but I think you’re gonna be stuck with me for a long time."

From the outside you'd think Steven hadn't heard her. But inside something was blooming -- something warm and strong that he hadn't felt in a long time, something that changed the meaning of the tears in his eyes. 

"Oof-" Connie nearly had the wind knocked out of her as Steven collapsed on her in a big hug. She giggled with pleasure. "Come here you," she teased, joy filling her voice as she squeezed him tight. 

Neither of them wanted the moment to end. They would have happily stayed like that forever, but fate had other plans for Steven Universe -- and his best friend Connie. 

"Oh, sorry!" She must have felt his breathing spasm or stop because she quickly let him go. He whipped around and coughed hard into his arm, as far from her as possible. The cold air stung his lungs as badly as before. When he was done he turned back around offered her a weak smile, and she gave him a look of love and sympathy back. 

"Be safe," she told him. "Text me when you get home. Don't forget."

He kept her words in his pocket all the way home. It was cold in the car -- his body wouldn't let him forget it --but that same warmth blooming under his ribs kept him from caring. Her voice played through every intersection, pothole and stop sign, and even though his lungs didn't feel much better somehow it was easier to breathe. 

Walking up the stairs to his house took more effort than he could ever remember. His body ached and the warmth that washed over him as he stepped inside nearly made him cry again. It took everything he had not to collapse on the floor and fall asleep then and there. Instead he dragged himself up the stairs to his room and managed to shed his jacket before melting into bed. Pajamas, checking in with the Gems, his nightly routine all could wait; nothing was more important than sleep right now. Well, except for one thing. He forced his eyes to open and a hand to grab his phone. Exhausted but smiling, he typed out a text with stinging fingers. When he finished he set the phone down with a loving sigh that grated in his chest. His work finally done, he fell asleep almost immediately, the message still alight by his side in the dark. 

-don't worry Connie, i'm home ❤️-

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! There will 100% be more in store, I already have some written. Stay tuned! :D


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